


Ferrets Aren't Chefs

by HeroMaggie



Series: Ser Chompy brings people together [7]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Anders is very understanding, Fenris isn't much of a cook, Fluff, M/M, Ser Fluffy Paws - not so much, cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 18:38:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4798172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeroMaggie/pseuds/HeroMaggie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A prompt from Tumblr:</p><p>prompt #8: "i love you a lot, but please stop trying to cook me dinner, you suck.”?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ferrets Aren't Chefs

Smoke filled the kitchen. Smoke and the smell of charred meat and burnt vegetables. There was a mutter and then a yelp, Fenris jumping back from the smoking pan on the stove.Sighing, he sucked on his finger.

Another burnt meal.

He had been trying, unsuccessfully, to cook dinner for Anders for three weeks now. He’d pick a day Anders would be in the clinic, would go visit Orana for a recipe, and then the market for ingredients. Then he’d rush home and...something would happen.

The first time he had tried to make dinner the accident hadn’t been his fault. Well, not his fault entirely. Orana had written out the directions as clear as possible. And Fenris could read...a little. Enough to understand boil and chop, stir and mix. But there had been a funny word in there - she had put the word roux and then flour, water, lard. Roux had thrown him off. He had stared and stared at the card until his finger had smudged the ingredients list and a stew that should have been nice and thick had been...well…

They could have spackled the walls with it.

The second time had been his fault. He had bought the chops, had seasoned them, had got them in the pan and browned them...mostly...and then stuck them in the oven to finish cooking. Unfortunately, something shiny had caught his eye and he had been obligated to go check it out.

Twenty minutes later, his stash had a new spoon and the chops resembled burnt wood.

This time, he had been sure he could handle the meal. It had been a simple roast. A hunk of meat sitting on root vegetables. The only instructions had been to “season with salt and put in the oven, keep temperature low, pull out when browned.”

He had fallen asleep.

Now he had something resembling a burnt log sitting atop smoking turnips and potatoes and no dinner. Fenris poked at the roast and sighed. All he wanted to do was prepare something for Anders. The man brought him eggs and pheasant, little shiny things and soft silky things for his stash. He played with Ser Chompy just as much as he played with Ser Fluffypaws. He...he deserved something nice.

The sound of the front door opening had Fenris groaning. Anders would see this and be upset. The room spun and grew hazy as the floor rushed to meet him. A moment and he was nosing out of his clothing and scampering out the door and down the hall.

***

Anders stood in the entryway to the mansion and inhaled. Ah...the smell of burnt meat and vegetables...that only meant one thing. His love had tried to cook again. A mrrp at his feet had him looking down into amused yellow eyes. “Hey Fluffy. Where’s Fenris?”

“Mrrp?” The cat pranced in a figure eight.

“Did you get fed?” Anders asked, a grin on his face.

Ser Fluffypaws meowed and fell to his side, rolling over to expose his belly.

“I’m going to take that as a no.” Anders sighed and scooped up the cat. “Ah well. Let’s see what’s going on in the kitchen, get you some food, and then find Fenris. Yes? Yes! Oh who’s a sweet kitty? You are!” Anders cooed as he walked them into the kitchen.

Where he found Fenris’ clothes, but no Fenris. He also found a roast that looked like it had gotten into a fight with a rage demon - and lost. A glance at Ser Fluffypaws had the cat huffing...a sound that made Anders laugh. “Well yes, he does lack a talent for cooking. But he has other talents, Fluffy. Let’s get you some food. I brought home some roast chicken for you and eggs for my love. Whom I must now find.”

Ser Fluffypaws let out a contented meow as a dish of shredded chicken was placed down for him. The eggs and rest of the chicken were placed in a bowl and into the cold room. And then Anders headed out of the kitchen and up to their bedroom.

He knew better than to try to track down Fenris, especially if his clothing was in the kitchen. As a ferret, he could be anywhere...and skittish. So instead, Anders took himself upstairs to change out of his clothing, wash his face, and let his hair down. A glance around the bedroom showed no ferrets, so he headed back downstairs to the kitchen to wait.

He didn’t have to wait for long.

Shortly after he pulled out some potatoes to chop, there was a sad chitter and Fenris slinking into the kitchen. Anders watched him creep to his clothes and curl up, hiding his face.

“Now don’t be like that. Come on, so we can actually talk.” Anders laughed. “I’m not talking to Chompy. I want my Fenris.”

The ferret gave a huff. There was a dizzying swirl of magic and then a naked elf stood in the kitchen - a very sheepish, embarrassed elf.

“So…” Anders nodded at the pan. “What happened?”

“I fell asleep.” Fenris grabbed his pants and tugged them on. “I…”

“Fenris. Love.” Anders put down the knife and went to take Fenris’ hands. “I love you. Dearly. I’m happy living with you. You don’t have to cook for me.”

“But you do so much for me.” Fenris sounded miserable.

“And you do a lot for me. You keep me safe. You give me companionship. You hold me at night and keep the nightmares away.” Anders cupped Fenris’ cheek. “The least I can do is cook dinner. And if I’m too tired, I can pick something up.”

Fenris went limp, “I...I am sorry I ruined dinner.”

“Oh, don’t worry. It won’t take long to boil up some potatoes. And I picked up roast chicken - some for the cat, some for me. Eggs for you. See. Dinner!” Anders pressed a quick kiss to Fenris’ cheek and went back to chopping.

“So you aren’t mad?” Fenris picked up his tunic and slipped it back on.

“Not a bit. But Fenris? Do me a favor, love? Please...please, stop trying to cook me dinner. You are truly terrible at it.” Anders glanced at Fenris who shuffled. “Maybe try something else to make me smile after a long day?”

Fenris thought about it, reached out, plucked the knife from Anders’ hand, and then swept him up. “You’re right.”

“Wait...where are we going?” Anders was hanging from Fenris’ shoulder.

“Upstairs. I’m going to rub your back and then kiss you all over. And then...then...I’m going to make you howl my name.” Fenris started down the hall to the stairs. “And then, I’ll bring up the chicken, some bread, and the eggs - and we’ll eat in bed. And then I’ll do it all over again.”

“Oh well see…” Anders reached down to grab Fenris’ ass. “This is what I’m talking about...play to your strengths. Leave the cooking to me. You...ah...you just keep doing this and we’ll both be happy.”

Fenris laughed as he slammed the door shut. Down in the kitchen, Ser Fluffypaws rolled his eyes, hissed at the roast, and stalked off to find a mouse to hunt. He had, after all, a stash to add to and a ferret to tease.


End file.
